


Innocent

by MadnessofVoid



Series: Sterek Week 2017 [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, Fix-It of Sorts, Other, Partners in Crime, Season 6B, Sterek Week 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 22:40:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12567796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadnessofVoid/pseuds/MadnessofVoid
Summary: Lady Luck was for once on his side...because this was the file on Derek Hale and his supposed mass murdering ways. Checking once again if he was alone and not being watched, he quickly grabbed each piece of paper, every piece of photography, and made his way to the copier. It was a quick process. In and out in a matter of minutes. When he was done, he shoved the copies into his bag and made sure it appeared as if he wasn't even there.Upon leaving, he bumped into a familiar face. Left him forcing an aggravated sigh down his throat, and a strained smile across his lips.“Heeeeeey! Mr. McCall! What-what a surprise! I thought that you wouldn't be in this part of the HQ?”





	Innocent

**Author's Note:**

> My submission for Partners In Crime for Sterek Week! I was going to have it be longer, but I felt that it would be ruined or dragged out. If I do get an idea for a continuation of this, I will hop right to it and post! If real life doesn't get in the way...

Of course after seeing a video of Derek (very old one, might he add, that he had serious questions on how the fuck they got it), Stiles had a ton of questions. For starters, why did they say in was in North Carolina when it was obviously from Beacon Hills? And why did they say Derek was slightly feral when, if his fellow students paid any attention to details, it appeared that Derek was full in all mind faculties and terrified as hell?

 

Something was fishy. Hella fishy. And by god, Stiles was going to figure out what was going on! And who was framing Derek for a mass murder. Though he had already two suspects in mind. (He knew Kate was still alive from his previous conversations with Derek, and Gerard was definitely a huge suspect because, well, it's fucking Gerard.)

 

After class, he went to his teacher, ready to ask a slew of questions and test the guy's knowledge. But, as he figured would happen, the guy told him in haste that class was done and Stiles should go rest. Now that would just not do. Stiles had questions! And he shot them out at rapid succession as his teach fled from him. Didn't even stop at the ones that would make normal people turn their heads!

 

All right. Plan B.

 

He sauntered around the place, feigning interest in seeing how the whole building looked and wanting to map out where future classes would be to anyone who stopped to ask what he was up to. It was only partially true. He was pretty excited about being in the FBI training facility. Excited to finally be here. But that excitement was drowned out by a mission to prove that, once again, Derek Hale was not a murderer. Eventually, he found the office of his teacher, which was thankfully empty. But something was left there on the desk. He smirked, slipping into the room. Quickly, he made sure no one was around before opening the file.

 

Lady Luck was for once on his side...because this was the file on Derek Hale and his supposed mass murdering ways. Checking once again if he was alone and not being watched, he quickly grabbed each piece of paper, every piece of photography, and made his way to the copier. It was a quick process. In and out in a matter of minutes. When he was done, he shoved the copies into his bag and made sure it appeared as if he wasn't even there.

 

Upon leaving, he bumped into a familiar face. Left him forcing an aggravated sigh down his throat, and a strained smile across his lips.

 

“Heeeeeey! Mr. McCall! What-what a surprise! I thought that you wouldn't be in this part of the HQ?”

 

Scott's dad raised his brow, already suspicious. “I was coming to check on you. See how your day went.”

 

With a shrug and another forced grin, Stiles tightened the hold on his bag's strap. “Was okay. I mean, I'd rather be learning the things than being told the things I'll be learning. Y'know how much of a hands on learner I am.”

 

“Uh-huh. And what were you doing in that room?”

 

Shit. Of course this asshole saw. Time to lie out of his ass.

 

“I had some questions. He left in a hurry, so I couldn't ask any. I don't think he likes me very much.”

 

“And what would give you that idea?”

 

“Beeeeecause I asked a lot of questions in class. Was the only one that did, actually. Guess I'm the only one that wants to have all the information instead of wait for it.”

 

“Patience is a virtue, Stiles.”

 

“I haven't the faintest idea what that is.”

 

“Of course you don't.” McCall heaved a sigh, holding his hand out. “What's in your bag?”

 

At that moment, he was thankful that this McCall was also not a werewolf. Would hear his thundering heart. He raised his brow in a challenge – to mask his inner panic. He also crossed his arms over his chest and scowled.

 

“Uh, all my stuff? My FBI water bottle, my FBI pens, my FBI pencils, my FBI folders, my FBI notebooks...huh. Are you guys always this brand focused? I don't think I have anything that doesn't say FBI on it.”

 

“Stiles...give me your bag.”

 

“My bag that _also_ has the FBI logo on it? Really...you guys shouldn't give anyone in your pre-FBI program this much crap with your name branded all over it.”

 

“Stiles. Bag. _Now_.”

 

Definitely was glad this McCall wasn't a werewolf. His heart was wildly beating and he wouldn't put it pass himself to be giving off high signals of anxiety. With reluctance, he handed his bag over, and prayed his little secret wouldn't be caught. McCall searched through his bag, looking more and more frustrated by the second. All the while, Stiles held his breath.

 

_Please don't look in the pouch. Please don't look in the pouch. Please don't look in the pouch._

 

Lady Luck smiled upon him once again, because McCall searched through everything and found _nothing_. He even sifted through the pencil case! But never looked at the small, slightly hidden pouch on the inside of the seemingly pocketless bag. Unsatisfied, McCall shoved the bag back into Stiles' chest and gave him a warning glare.

 

“Keep your nose out of places they shouldn't be. I put in a good word for you to get you here. You shouldn't even be here with the lack of experience or school classes. Don't make me regret it.”

 

Stiles bit back a smirk and a snorting laugh, feeling slightly powerful. “Will do, sir. I'll fight those pesky old habits of mine.”

 

McCall rolled his eyes before turning heel and stomping off. That's when Stiles allowed himself to grin in triumph. Also when he allowed himself to exhale with relief. Thank god for tiny pouches that he wouldn't have known existed if he hadn't snooped around his own bag last night. Such life savers.

 

After that close call was done, Stiles hauled ass out of the building. There was nothing else for him to do there the rest of the day and he wasn't needed in his dorm room until ten that night – it was time for a little trip. For research and sight seeing purposes, of course. _Illegal_ research and sight seeing purposes. He would have to be careful with every little plans' scenario that played in his mind. Any slip ups and he would be screwed for assisting a federal fugitive.

 

Derek owed him _big time_.

 

**~+~**

 

So...getting a new phone was easy. A little pricey, but easy. He could put it on the list of things Derek owed him. Which was starting to grow. Exponentially.

 

After getting the new phone, Stiles fast walked out of the mall store, b-lining it to the first bathroom he could find. Thank god it was for little boys. He didn't need anyone to believe he was a creep. Locking himself in the stall, he hung up all his purchases...and did a quick wardrobe change.

 

Yes, he could've gone to his dorm and get his clothes there.

 

Yes, it would've saved him a lot of money.

 

But doing it this way made him feel more undercover and official. _Shut up_.

 

He hurried in his changing, silently praying nobody would wander in and think him changing clothes was suspicious. Or that he was stealing. Because he would kill Derek over that. And, as it would seem, Lady Luck really wanted to be sweet to him today. No one popped into the bathroom the entire time he changed his clothes. And pinned on a patch of a wolf big enough to cover the FBI logo on his bag.

 

Now it was official. Time to possibly throw all his opportunities away.

 

Derek was worth it, though. Always.

 

He slipped out of the bathroom, looking like just some other kid in the mall. No one glanced his way once. He was still ansty, though. Lady Luck had been kind to him thus far, but how did he know some undercover agents were roaming about and tailing him? Making sure he was really up to par with the program. That he wouldn't be jeopardizing a single thing, since reputation was somewhat important to them. He didn't know. At all. Good thing he was paranoid! And all those times in BH definitely helped lead him to this moment. He had trained well.

 

Nothing happened as he left the mall and plopped down at a, surprisingly, vacant bus stop. He had done his research earlier and knew this was the one stop nearby that would take him to the well known sights of DC. So seeing it empty...

 

Stiles quickly hailed a cab, not liking how this all felt. Something was off. Had to be. Was he being tailed? He swallowed as he entered the cab, plastering on a friendly smile and asking to be dropped off a few minutes out from the Lincoln Memorial. If he was being tailed and the feds were manipulating things, he could lose them in the sea of people heading towards the memorial.

 

At least they couldn't monitor his new phone. He hadn't had it long enough for it to be bugged by them. Even the government, he hoped, had to get a warrant for his new phone. But they may have somehow bugged Derek's phone. The guy was being charged with mass murder, after all. Meaning he would have to send a semi cryptic message to Derek just in case. Right up the ol' sour wolf's ally.

 

 

_**D – payp in ten. Not yours. Break. - S** _

 

 

Okay...that might've been a bit _too_ cryptic. He had zero idea if Derek would understand what any of that would mean. Dammit. He should've taught Derek all his codes. Oh well. In ten minutes, he would know.

 

As the cab driver worked through the traffic, Stiles shuffled through his bag and pulled out a binder. Not the FBI one. One he bought in the mall at a gothic-nerd type place. It would make him look like to the driver, if this dude really _was_ a driver, that he was just a fan of YOI. Which, yeah, he was. But that was his dirty little secret. Anyways...he opened the binder to reveal the papers he had obtained in his teach's office. He had a highlighter and pen in hand, diving right into work.

 

There was...a lot of questions.

 

Like how there were obvious reports (and photos, because this is Stiles) of bullet holes, wounds, and the doors were all shot open. Derek wouldn't use a gun. There was that one time, but that was when he was defenseless and he had to use it. Learning how to use a gun and using one didn't remedy the wolf's disdain towards them. If Derek wanted to butcher a bunch of people, which he wouldn't, he would have used teeth and claws. Use that amazing wolf form he had now and was so proud of.

 

Or how there were strands of blonde found at the scene that didn't belong to any of the victims. Last Stiles check, Derek wasn't a blonde. Nor would he dye his hair blonde. Just thinking of Derek with blonde hair was...weird. And the hairs were too long for a man. Unless Derek decided to grow his hair out nice and long. Which was also a weird image. Nice...but weird.

 

None of this pointed towards Derek. None whatsoever. In fact, it just pointed more and more to Kate, like he suspected. What he didn't get was why Kate was so sloppy. Nothing screamed that a werewolf of any kind committed this mass murder. It was more human than anything. She must've used her charisma to convince people that it was Derek. That would be the only way these idiots thought that someone like Derek Hale could do this.

 

“We're here.” the driver gruffed out.

 

Stiles yelped, hurriedly stuffing everything he had back into his binder and bag. “Th-thanks, man! You take cash?”

 

He paid the grumpy driver and launched himself out of the cab. Once out, he smoothed his clothes and took deep breaths. Had to look innocent. Innocent and a tourist. Easy enough. He pulled out a cheap, little, disposable camera he purchased at the mall (he had no idea these things still exist) to add to the facade. With a deep breath, he marched on forward, feigning (slightly) the bright eyed excitement he thought tourists in DC would feel. He would stop randomly to take pointless pictures, 'ooh' and 'aw', and weaved into the flood of people.

 

He also kept checking the phone.

 

Ten minutes had come and gone. Maybe Derek didn't get what he meant? He went to send Derek another message, gnawing at his lip, when the new cell rang. _Loudly_. Nearly dropped the damned thing.

 

“Heeeeeey, babe! I was wondering when you would call.”

 

He could hear an all too familiar huff on the other end, and he relaxed. Thank god Derek was still safe.

 

“What the hell was all that about?” hissed Derek lowly. “And you do know that payphones don't exist anymore? I'm in a bar right now making this call.”

 

“Oh, babe. That's so sweet.”

 

“Why do you keep calling me babe?”

 

“Because I love you.”

 

That stunned Derek long enough for Stiles to find a good spot to carry forward this conversation.

 

“You still in South America?” he asked lowly, smiling at some other tourists he almost bumped into.

 

“Have been for months. Why?”

 

“Well...because apparently you were in North Carolina not too long ago and committed mass murder. The FBI are trying to catch you. They even had a video of you running shirtless through the woods of the preserve, saying that it was in North Carolina. Good thing I'm a Beacon Hills boy and have been in those woods more times than I can count.”

 

There was a pause. A long, unhealthy pause. Made Stiles anxious.

 

“Look...you need to be careful. I even bought a new phone to do this just in case they bugged my old one. And made copies of the files they have on the case. Already been looking through them. Everything seems to point to our favorite psycho. Question is why and why she was so sloppy in trying to frame -”

 

“Stiles...how do you know all this?”

 

“I didn't tell you? Shit. I thought I did.” He ran a hand through his hair, which felt weird with the camera in his hand, and bit his lip. “I, uh...I'm in the pre-FBI program. Today was my first day. And...well...you were what was talked about. They called you feral, dude.”

 

Another pause. Shorter this time.

 

“Congratulations, Stiles. You deserve this.”

 

“And you deserve to not be accused of something you didn't do. Don't worry. I'm gonna help you.”

 

“Excuse me?” a young girl chirped, dashing up to him. “Can you take a picture of me and my friends?”

 

“Sure! Yeah! Uh, babe, gimme a sec. I have someone that wants me to take a group pic.”

 

He adjusted everything so he could do this and keep the phone against his ear. He pretended nothing was going on. That he wasn't speaking with a suspect in a mass murder that was on the FBI list. That everything was normal. Even when Derek continued talking.

 

“Stiles...you assisting a federal fugitive will ruin your life. I can do this on my own.”

 

He scoffed, making motions for the group of girls to huddle closer. “No no, babe! I got this. Don't you worry about a thing. Just worry about taking care of your sister. I'll make sure everything goes smoothly on my end.”

 

Finishing taking the picture on each of the six girls' cells, he gave them a thumbs up and the last girl jogged up to him to take her phone.

 

“Your girlfriend sounds very lucky to have a guy like you.” she said with fondness.

 

“Boyfriend, actually.”

 

“Even better! Go gays!”

 

“Uh, y-yeah! Go gays! And bisexuals! We're valid, too!”

 

She giggled, telling him thanks again for taking the pictures, and ran off with her friends. Stiles kept smiling at them and anyone else that passed until he shuffled his way to the Lincoln Monument. That's when he let out an aggravated sigh.

 

“You don't get to play martyr. Let someone on the inside help you.”

 

“What? You think you're going to convince them to allow you, a trainee, anywhere near this case? What am I talking about, of course you will.”

 

“And I'll succeed. I mean, who can argue that the perfect taste of the field and if I'm cut out for it is actually participating in a possible, since they don't know if you left the country yet, worldwide manhunt for a dangerous mass murderer? It makes logical sense! Especially with a hands on learner like myself. And Scott's dad is how I got into this. I can annoy the hell out of him and get him to help me in convincing the others to see my point.”

 

“I know. I wouldn't be surprised if you tried to convince them that you should be in charge.”

 

“I didn't even think about that, but thank you for the idea.”

 

“You're welcome.”

 

Stiles sat down on the steps of the memorial, heaving out a sigh. “I was supposed to be excited about being here. But here I am...throwing away everything away.”

 

“Stiles...I -”

 

“Don't. Don't you _dare_ feel guilty about it. I _want_ to do this. You don't need this bullshit. Especially from that wench. I'm gonna help you get through this, Der. I promise. And if I get caught...I'll never sell out. I'd rather die.”

 

“Stiles -”

 

“I'll keep you posted. Call this number between six and midnight every day. Even if it is a call and hang up if you get voicemail. At least I'll know you aren't hurt or captured. If you can get to a computer and internet access, I'll send you an email every day under a new one. From different locations. From different computers. Okay? If you can't get to one, then we will talk on the phone. Just...you gotta be careful.”

 

“So do you.”

 

He laughed quietly, picking at a thread on his jeans. “Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. You just worry about you. We'll get through this. She won't win. Not with how sloppy she went about things.”

 

There was a sigh. A heavy one. Weighted. “I trust you.”

 

“You better! Because I'm saving your ass! _Again_.”

 

A chuckle this time. Which was nice. Eased the nerves a smidgen.

 

“I better go. I actually want to play tourist a bit. Talk to you tomorrow, perhaps.”

 

“Yeah. Tomorrow. On a random phone. Because you told me to destroy mine.”

 

“For safety, sour wolf!”

 

“Cora won't be pleased.”

 

“I think she'd understand. Given the circumstances.”

 

Silence fell between them just thinking about it. The situation that shouldn't even be happening. Once they found Kate, Stiles was going to put a bullet between her eyes himself. She shouldn't keep getting a thrill from ruining Derek's life.

 

“Tomorrow, big guy.” he whispered, somewhat reluctantly.

 

“Tomorrow.” Derek confirmed, sounding just as reluctant.

 

They didn't say bye. Saying that would be...not appropriate. Stiles sat there for some time, staring at the screen. This thing wouldn't be used again till tomorrow. If there was a tomorrow for them. Part of him wondered if he had been followed and they knew exactly what he was up to. That they would use him until they could pinpoint Derek's exact location and nab him. Then, they both would be imprisoned.

 

_At least dad won't be too disappointed. Hopefully._

 

Speaking of his father...he would have to give him a call later. For now, it was time for Stiles to actually be an excited tourist and take pictures of the sights. Have memories of freedom. For however long he was going to be free.

 

Either way...there were no regrets.

 

None.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come check out Sterek Week!!!
> 
> http://sterekweek2017.tumblr.com/


End file.
